The Five Times Sylar Never Met Elle
by shego219
Summary: ...and the One Time He Did. Sylar/Elle, AU-ish. Gabriel/Sylar-centric.


The Five Time Sylar Never Met Elle The Five Time Sylar Never Met Elle

Summary: The five times Gabriel Gray/Sylar never met Elle Bishop, and the one time he did. AU-ish. Sylar-centric. Inspired by a story I read over in the Iron Man section.

Pairing: Sylar/Elle

One-shot

**One – Playground**

Nine-year-old Gabriel Gray was bored. He felt that he had outgrown playgrounds a long time ago, yet he was stuck here until his mother came to pick him up.

He had walked down the block to the park after school on that day because he had hoped to find it deserted. He needed time to think, and with the biting autumn wind starting to pick up, he hadn't counted on having company.

Sure enough, there were kids by the dozen, running loose, all bundled up to reflect the change in weather.

Gabriel looked up at the sky. It was gray, but not in a rain cloud way – it was simply devoid of color. Which was pretty depressing, when he stopped to think about it.

He hadn't thought to bring a book. Reading was one of Gabriel's favorite pastimes; he devoured anything and everything, regardless of the subject. His fascination reflected in his grades – he was reading at least three grade levels above most of the kids in his class.

After contemplating walking the extra distance to the library, the idea was quickly shot down in favor of staying put and studying another subject Gabriel secretly enjoyed – people.

Most of the people at the park were easy to read especially the younger kids. All of their stories seemed to be the same to him – here with parents, desperate to get their kids out one last time before the weather prevented them from leaving the house. It was easy to tell who was divorced, who was widowed, who was here with whom. If observing park-goers were a test, Gabriel would have aced it.

His gaze landed on two people, what he judged to be a father and a daughter, and an unexplainable shiver ran up his spine. There was something about them so… out of the ordinary. They weren't mysterious – they looked perfectly normal, harmless in fact. The father looked kind of bland, with his glasses, trench coat and balding hair-do.

When Gabriel glanced down at the sandbox, the daughter was gone.

"Hello," chirped a voice from behind him. Gabriel jumped about a foot off the bench.

"Do you mind if I join you?" He turned around to get a better look at the girl, who was indeed, the one from the sandbox not a minute ago. She was petite and blonde, with large blue eyes. Gabriel eyed her rainbow-patterned jacket suspiciously.

"Sure," he replied, wondering what exactly her intentions were.

"I'm Elle," she stated, plopping down beside him. "I like your glasses."

"Thanks," he responded, fidgeting with the frames. He thought about telling her his name, but decided against it for reasons he couldn't quite name.

Gabriel made a mental note that her hair fell loose on her shoulders instead of being in any sort of style, which seemed to be uncommon for a lot of girls her age. The man he'd decided was her father was probably raising her as a single parent.

"What grade are you in?" the girl asked. Gabriel opened his mouth to reply, but immediately shut it. Someone was approaching from behind him, he could sense it, and whoever it was wasn't very happy.

"Elle," the father figure's voice resounded from behind him. "What have I told you about talking to strangers?"

The girl opened her mouth to protest, but Gabriel, who had taken off like a shot across the crowded playground, was already gone.

**Two - Summertime**

Looking up at the rapidly darkening sky, young Gabriel Gray silently cursed his mother for making him ride his bike to his swimming lessons. He didn't even bother to ask why, figuring he'd get some lecture about responsibility and character building.

Personally, Gabriel wasn't much of a fan of the swimming lessons. He liked swimming – was good at it, actually – but the rest of his class was so… remedial. He wondered why they had to place him according to age instead of ability.

Peddling faster, he contemplated the impending weather crisis. Again, it wasn't that he disliked storms, it was just that he didn't need anything added to his already defective day.

Gabriel meditated for a moment on the weather. Thick, gray skies like this usually indicated a torrent of rain, and, best of all, lightning. Everything about these types of storms were supercharged, omnipotent. Why, if someone could harness the energy in a single…

"Shit." Gabriel swore out loud and stopped peddling his bike, screeching his sneakers on the pavement.

Looking around, Gabriel noticed what he should have a minute ago – the power had gone out on the block. He had just assumed it was getting darker because of the storm, not because the street lamps had gone out. Hopefully it wasn't spreading across town, although if what he had witnessed was any indication, it probably was.

A gust of wind followed shortly by a burst of thunder rocked the empty street. Gabriel checked his trusty watch before he started counting.

One-one thousand, two-one thousand…

The explosion of lightning hit sooner than he had expected, illuminating his deserted surroundings.

As the thunder rolled in the distance, preparing to repeat the pattern, Gabriel coasted along on his bike. He remained alert, looking for a good place to potentially ditch his bike. Common sense told him it probably was not a good idea to be riding something metal while wet during a storm.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as another flash of lightning arced across the sky.

He didn't even have time to count before he glimpsed another brilliant sheet of lightning in his peripheral vision. It had come from behind him.

A painful screech erupted from behind him, causing Gabriel to jump off his bike and toss it in a nearby bush.

Running as fast as he could, he turned a corner, searching for the source of the painful sound.

On the sidewalk in front of him, Gabriel saw a girl sprawled out on her back, as if she were communicating with the sky itself.

"Are you okay?" he yelled over the wind, rushing towards her. She didn't move.

Gabriel halted a few yards away from her in the middle of the street. Thinking back to what he'd seen, he was almost positive she had been struck by the lightning, based on her position. Remembering the vivid color of the shock wave, Gabriel wondered if he had been imagining things.

Because it had almost seemed like the lightning was blue, like electricity… when the electricity was out all over the city.

As Gabriel kneeled down beside the unconscious blonde, he could have sworn he saw a few sparks of electricity flit over her fingers. He pressed on her wrist with his fingers, searching for a pulse.

With a jolt of energy, Gabriel simultaneously found himself getting shocked and the girl absorbing the shock, sitting upright with a start.

"Are you okay?" he panted as she turned to stare at him.

The girl nodded. "What happened?" she questioned, the wind whipping strands of hair in her eyes.

"I think you got struck by lightning," Gabriel replied.

"Did I?" the girl asked, seemingly unfazed. She looked away from Gabriel to the street to her right.

Gabriel followed her gaze, spying a pair of singed sandals on the pavement a few feet away.

**Three - Hospital**

Something about hospitals made Gabriel calm, and yet at the same, ready to go nuts. He supposed it was the mixture of order and chaos, the cheerfulness and cleanliness followed shortly by agony and death.

It was compelling, this mixture of fear and curiosity, especially for someone as bright as Gabriel, who was just now on the fringes of making a career decision, possibly something in medicine.

The thought of his abandoned schoolwork caused a lump to rise in his throat. He bowed his head, willing himself not to cry, not to think about crying.

His father's illness was inevitable. It was as if Gabriel had detected it coming, something not quite right in his brain. He had selfishly hoped that, if he ignored it, the unexplainable disease would go away and he could live his own life. He didn't want to be sucked into the vortex that was Gray and Sons. Now he really **would** have to take over the business.

It wasn't official, of course, but Gabriel sensed it. The amounts of paperwork his mother had been bombarded with seemed an ill omen. He had helped her with it as much as he could, until he thought he would break.

Wandering the hospital, Gabriel had wound up at the nurse's station near his father's room. At this time of night, the floor was nearly deserted, and none of the present staff wanted to disturb the clearly distraught young man.

Hesitant to actually go in the room, he leaned on the edge of the station, looking in on his father every so often before resting his forehead on his folded arms on the counter. The consistent ticking of his watch helped to hypnotize him.

Tick…tick…tick…

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Gabriel woke up with a start and found himself face-to-face with a sad-looking girl.

"Were you sleeping standing up?" she inquired. She didn't sound too surprised, just curious.

"I… uh…" Gabriel tried to get his train of thought back on track.

He figured the girl was about his age, probably younger. Her blonde hair hung loose, except for her bangs, which she had pinned to the side, making her blue eyes look absolutely huge. The paper shift she was wearing identified her as a patient, and even though she was wearing a bathrobe over it, Gabriel could tell she was a little too skinny.

"Who are you?" he managed to ask, and instantly regretted it. His voice had came out sounding a lot harsher than he had intended.

The girl turned to look at him directly. "I'm Elle Bishop, I'm 18 years old, and I'm visiting someone in the Psych ward," she recited like a list.

_Just visiting?_, Gabriel wondered. He managed to keep his mouth shut that time.

"Now tell me who you are," Elle insisted, smiling like she had just found her new best friend.

He inhaled slowly. "My name is Gabriel Gray, I'm 22 years old, so yes, I'm in college," he said before she could interrupt, "and… well, that's my dad," he finished, motioning towards his father's room.

"Oh. Yikes," Elle replied, not very tactfully. With all the important details out of the way, the two stood around in awkward silence for a moment longer, not wanting to test their fragile bond.

"Well," Elle said finally, breaking the moody atmosphere, "I should probably get going before someone comes looking for me."

"We could talk more later," Gabriel found himself saying. "You know, once you're out of the Psych ward." _Oops._ He winced outwardly as he kicked himself inwardly.

The beautiful girl's face filled with hurt, with almost an aura of anger. "What else do you know about me?" It was like she already suspected him of something… of spying on her maybe? Definitely paranoid, he decided.

"I… well… have you been eating as much as you should? Because I think you're too skinny. Maybe you're having problems at home…" Gabriel's day was just going from bad to worse.

Elle's eyebrows shot to her forehead.

"No, no, wait, I'm sorry. It's just that… I have this thing where, I don't know what it is, but I can tell how things _work_, how people work, and I think maybe I just overanalyzed you… just a bit."

"You're special?" Elle asked, stepping closer to him.

"Not really," Gabriel replied, secretly hoping she thought he was.

With a devilish glint in her eyes, Elle traced a pattern on the counter surface, blue sparks dancing from her fingers.

"I think we all are somehow."

**Four – The Watch Shop**

"I need this watch fixed. It's a present for my dad's birthday."

Gabriel opened his mouth to agree, but the blonde across the counter kept talking.

"My mom gave it to him for their first anniversary, but she's gone now. Anyway, I think it would look a lot better if you replaced that, and that… and maybe that." She pointed to several spots on the face and band of the intricately designed timepiece. Gabriel nodded in consent.

She stared at his face for what felt like an eternity, before asking, "Aren't you a little young to own your own shop like this?"

"Not really," Gabriel shrugged. He hesitated for a moment.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said.

"You just did," she replied with a trace of irony.

Gabriel laughed, willing himself not to get lost in those electric blue eyes of hers. He focused instead on another client he had overlooked up until now.

Browsing near the front of the store, the imposing, dark-skinned man (possibly from Haiti, if his intuition was reliable) met his gaze, his eyes shooting daggers through the poor watch fixer.

"Do you know that guy?" Gabriel wondered aloud.

Barely even glancing over her shoulder, the blonde looked back at Gabriel with the most cluelessly innocent expression on her face, an obvious mask.

"I've never seen him before."

**Five – Four Months Later**

He was sleeping through the haze, thinking of that night in Kirby Plaza…

Four months and eight surgeries later, Sylar (not Gabriel Gray any more) wakes up screaming on a cold metal table. Everything about the strange shack he's in screams evil experiment lab.

Well, everything except for the gorgeous blonde girl trying to restrain him.

He tries in vain to push her away, or make something come to him using only his mind so he can fight her off, but nothing happens. It's like he's stuck in some frictionless vortex.

Sylar gives up and closes his eyes. His body is drained and he's given himself a splitting headache from trying to use his non-existent powers.

Somewhere nearby, the blonde's voice reaches his eyes. "I'm glad you stopped - I didn't want to have to knock you out."

Sylar laughs, feeling the pain sear through his abdomen. "A little girl like you? I'd like to see you try," he sneers.

"I never said I'd be using physical strength." Sylar opens his eyes to find the woman standing over him. Her hands are ablaze with blue light, as if an electrical current were lighting them.

"Welcome to Mexico. I'm Elle, by the way," she says, offering a glowing hand for Sylar to shake. He can't tell if she's trying to be funny or serious.

He ignores her, and instead, pulls himself into a sitting position on the edge of the table.

"What did you… what happened to my powers?"

Elle sits down next to him.

"Daddy shot you up with the virus. I'm sorry."

She really does look sorry, but Sylar doesn't want her sympathy.

"Your daddy?" He manages to sound incredulous while subtly changing the subject.

"Bob Bishop," she replies. "He's kind of in charge of the whole operation, but it's a long story."

Sylar nods to himself before looking back at her.

"So the Company boss man sends his daughter to watch over a psychopathic creep in a shack in Mexico?"

"We're on a budget right now," Elle quips.

Sylar tries not to laugh. He wonders how long he's supposed to be kept here. He wonders how long _she's_ supposed to stay with him.

"So what now?" he asks.

Elle leans in close to him, running harmless cascades of electricity around him.

"You're at _my_ mercy now," she purrs.

Somehow Sylar finds he doesn't mind at all.

**Reality**

He shoots at her in Mohinder's office, even though she's wearing a sling on one arm.

That's pretty low.

Nothing else about her cries out for sympathy though. Her blonde hair, blue eyes and gratuitous curves all compete for attention, not to mention her powers…

But she's a Company girl. Sylar would rather give himself a lobotomy than get even further involved in their schemes.

With one final (literal) parting shot, he flees with his cure.

The zap of electricity she hits him with reminds him not to come back anytime soon.


End file.
